


Paint Job

by somethingsintheair



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, im tired heres some soft content, yes im still alive hello
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingsintheair/pseuds/somethingsintheair
Summary: Phobos needs some new paint.





	Paint Job

Lord Phobos was in desperate need of a new paint job. He hadn’t bothered worrying about it since the band had formed, but after ten-ish rotations on Earth, he thought maybe it was time for a change. All the travel, all the movement, and that one time he accidentally punched himself in the face onstage had really taken its toll on his armor.

At first, he considered going to Sung. The doctor took care of all his helmet repairs, after all. He knew the thing inside and out. But Sung wasn’t exactly the most artistic individual, and his steady hand only seemed to come into play when he was working with some form of technology.

Really. He couldn’t even make breakfast without making a mess.

Meouch had a similar problem. He always said he was good with his hands “where it mattered,” but besides the bass, that didn’t seem to include anything Phobos had ever seen. His movements were jerky, his handwriting was a mess, and he was the last person Phobos would trust with a paintbrush.

Ah, yes. The robot.

Havve was essentially built to keep steady, to be as precise as possible in his movements. He hadn’t bothered to repaint his own armor, but Phobos was sure that was more due to personal preference than anything else. He was a little nervous to make the request, considering Havve’s usual demeanor, but the robot seemed more than willing to help.

Havve sat Phobos down on the bathroom counter before he left and brought back some gold paint-- which he apparently had in stock already, for some reason. He placed a surprisingly gentle hand on the top of Phobos’s helmet to keep his head steady before he got to work.

He started with a larger brush to cover the entire helmet, even everything out. When that was done, he went in with a smaller detail brush to fill in the gaps and grooves of the helmet. Phobos couldn't see much, and mostly just stared at Havve's chest while the robot leaned over him. He only got a look at Havve's face when his head was carefully tilted back so that Havve could paint the area around his visor. It was tranquil, in a way. Despite... well, _everything,_ Phobos felt pretty secure in his current position.

The calmness of the situation was only halted when the door burst open and Havve's hand slipped in surprise. It took a second for Phobos to focus past the stripe of paint that now streaked across his line of sight, but he eventually recognized the intruder as Doctor Sung.

“Hey, I was looking for you guys,” he said, sounding a bit out of breath. “What are you... oh!” He locked eyes with Phobos, which meant he was probably looking at the paint on his visor. “I'm sorry!”

The apology seemed to fall to deaf ears, because Havve started to grip the paintbrush so hard it snapped right in half.

“Okay!” Sung nodded, his voice shaky. “I'll, um... I'll leave you to it, then! Have fun!” He gave them a vague salute before he slammed the door shut.


End file.
